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No; he’s more than that. He’s perfection, even in his changed form.
I swallow the lump in my throat and cross my legs. That fluttering is still there; in my chest… growing warmer, slipping between my thighs.
He leans forward. “Finley,” he says softly; slowly, shaping my name with his deep, resonant voice. “I couldn’t care less about titles or status. I have enough wealth that marrying for it would be pointless. And to be perfectly honest, I find most of those that have been raised in the bubble of the Rahavan Court to be insufferable. But you…aren’t.”
“So… youdowish to proceed with this… our arranged betrothal.”
One pale eyebrow arches in amusement. “Does the notion really seem so terrible to you?”
My stomach flips.A little… because I don’t know what you’re capable of.
“And part of this arrangement is that you will want to…” My hand goes to my neck. With cold fingers, I feel my own rapid, shallow pulse. “You’ll want my blood again… and again.” My voice cracks a little. I can’t help it. The thought that he might put his sensual lips on my neck again and gently suck the life out of me.
Thisman.
Oh, my Goddess.
For a moment, his eyes come to rest upon my neck. His lips are slightly parted. I can see the sharp tips of his fangs.
“I won’t force you,” he says softly. “And I won’t take from you until your condition has improved.”
Force me?Like you did before?
What is this feeling I have? Of dread mixed with excitement? Along with a healthy dose of skepticism. “From what I can tell, you weren’t exactly in full possession of your senses. What makes you so certain you can control yourself next time?”
“I’ll learn to control it. And if I fail to do so before the thirst hits me again, I will keep away from you and seek alternatives. Unless, of course… you are willing.”
Am I seriously contemplating allowing this man to drink from me again? “The physician says I’m to take it easy over the next few weeks. I don’t want to be fainting in your arms again.”
Are you sure you won’t force me?I remember the look in his eyes just before he drank from me. In that moment, it felt like nothing in the world could come between us.
“Drink the wine, Finley. There’s no need to be suspicious. It’s just a finely aged Tusganes merlot, laced with a few drops of my blood. One of the few benefits of this infernal state of mine is that my blood appears to have healing properties.”
“I won’t be… affected by your magic?”
“If you’re worried that you’ll become like me, then no. That’s not possible. According to the lore, only the Goddess herself can create vampires. I’ve donated my blood before, time and time again. When your brother was close to death, I gave him some. It sped up the healing process immensely, and from what I’ve been told, he’s still as human as he ever was.”
A faint smile crosses my lips. He’s right. The last I saw of Aderick, he was sitting up in bed, wolfing down a hearty breakfast and bemoaning the fact that he was bored out of his mind from being stuck in bed all day. And he was soveryhuman.
“Drink the wine, Finley. It’ll heal you. There’s no point in having you spending the next few weeks feeling weak, with the risk of fainting at the slightest exertion.”
He’s right. That sounds like hell. But he obviously has other motives, too. “And then you’ll be able to drink frommesooner, won’t you?”
“I do have a vested interest in your wellbeing, yes.”
“You know, for a royal, you’re rather shameless, Corvan.”
He smiles then; a bitter, wicked, and utterly charming smile, all perfect white teeth and gleaming fangs. “You think royals are supposed to be paragons of virtue? I hate to disappoint you, but we’re the most shameless creatures of all.”
“Well, at least you’re honest about it.”
Itwouldbe good to get rid of this feeling; this woozy light-headedness, this annoying fluttering of my heart, this restlessness, this strange, smoldering heat inside my body.
The glass of wine sits there on the table, right where Vinciel left it.
Dark, decadent crimson, staring back at me, taunting me.
Is he lying, or telling the truth?
